


Used to be Glass

by orphan_account



Category: Marvel, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Abuse, Angst with a Happy Ending, Child Abuse, Domestic Violence, Extremely Dubious Consent, Gaslighting, Homophobia, Homophobic Language, Howard Stark's A+ Parenting, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-17
Updated: 2018-03-27
Packaged: 2019-04-01 08:29:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13994415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: He was never a monster. True to his name, he was stone, and as hard and unbreakable as he was supposed to be, he shattered on the pavement like glass, and no one ever cleared the ground of the sharp edged rocks.It wasn't the rock's fault that it was broken, but that didn't change the blood that came when your foot caught an edge. It didn't change the pain you'd feel, and it didn't take away the scar you'd get from the stitches you needed because of it.It was hardly a blaming game. Then again, if you'd have to blame someone, though, why not blame the jackass that broke the rock in the first place?





	1. Chapter 1

“Will you marry me?” Steve asked, shaking hands holding an open ring box. He was on one knee in front of Tony, a nervous smile on his face, and… Tony couldn’t believe it, honestly. They were in the middle of a fucking grocery store, for fuck’s sake. As if Steve could read his mind (and Tony sometimes swore he could), he said, “I know it’s not the fanciest place, but I- I wanted-” Steve stood up then, and to anyone else, it must have seemed like the moment had passed. Tony was standing in a shocked silence, but there were tears welling in his eyes that he couldn’t quite blink away. “I wanted you to have one experience for yourself. One experience for us and no one else. No cameras, no crowds, just… us.”

It was a nice sentiment. Something private. Tony hardly ever cried- he didn’t shed tears at Howard’s funeral, and he was dead silent at Maria’s. Jarvis’ death was the only one he cried over, and even then, they were silent, frustrated tears. But he could feel the tears coming on then. Steve wanted to marry him. Captain fucking America wanted to spend the rest of his life with  _ Tony Stark. _

 

“Tony?” Steve asked again. “Come back to me, doll. You okay?” His words were gentle, but he was fidgeting, clearly uncomfortable or concerned or… worried. He was worried. He thought Tony would say no. And why wouldn’t he? The man had the self esteem of a one-eyed teddy bear at Toys-R-Us and Tony had been silent for an eerily long amount of time.

 

“Yes,” Tony responded, voice suddenly hoarse with the dryness of his throat. He cleared it with a cough, and then again said, “Yes.”

 

Steve worried his bottom lip, looking down for a moment before glancing back up to meet Tony’s gaze. He could stare into Tony’s eyes forever. That was kind of the point, he thought. “Okay. And… the proposal?”

 

“I was saying yes to that. The proposal, it was- That was what the yes was for. And then the yes after that one, too.” There was a quiet huff of laughter from Steve after that, and Tony’s first instinct was to assume that it was a joke, the proposal was a joke. And then, mentally, he corrected himself. It wasn’t a joke. No sane person would propose as a joke, not unless they were planning on actually proposing 3 seconds later.

 

As it turned out, Steve wasn’t laughing. He was crying. Tony hadn’t seen Steve cry more a few times over the course of their relationship. They were both pretty emotionally constipated, but they eventually learned how to talk to each other. Tony usually cried  _ during  _ arguments, when the anxiety was high and every defensive word out of his mouth felt like a brick building a wall between him and Steve. Steve usually cried  _ after _ arguments, where the weight of everything he’d said would finally start to drag him down, and he had to replay the experience over in his head, remembering every insult, every dig, everything he said that no longer referred to Tony being wrong, but Tony  _ always _ being wrong, to Tony being  _ antagonistic _ , to Tony being  _ unsupportive _ . They always made up, and they always talked things through in the end, but that didn’t change the fact that they would both say things they regretted.

 

Steve dropped the ring box, wrapping his arms around Tony’s waist to lift him up and spin him happily. They were both in tears, and it was almost ridiculous, how Steve was twirling his newly minted fiancé in the middle of the cereal aisle. When he finally set Tony down, he cursed quietly to himself, remembering that he had to put the ring on Tony’s finger. Only, when he dropped the ring box, the ring fell out and under one of the floor-level shelves. “Tony, love, I could use your delicate fingers.”

 

“In the middle of the grocery store?” Tony asked, wiping his eyes with a stupid grin on his face. And then he realized the same thing Steve did just a moment before. “Shit.” 

  
  
  
  


* * *

 

 

 

_ “Will you marry me?” Tiberius asked, sitting on the edge of the fountain in front of the Stark Mansion. It was a nice, quiet night, and Tony wasn’t supposed to be out, but there was a tree Ty could climb to get to Tony’s window on the second floor. They always had trouble getting down, but Ty realized early on that he could help Tony down and then climb down the tree himself. Tony wasn’t a very gifted climber. It wasn’t that climbing in itself was the problem. He was just weak, smaller than the other boys his age but twice as bright. _

 

_ It was the day after Tony’s eighth birthday party, which was essentially just another way of Howard hosting a party for his own networking and advertising. It was like a who’s who of businessfolk screaming ‘I’m still relevant!’ at the top of their lungs. Tony liked the quiet that came afterward, when Ty’s father would still be in the mansion with Howard and Tony got to spend time with Ty. They were always good together- Tony did well in the spotlight, but he thrived on alone time in the workshop. Ty did well in the workshop, but he thrived on the spotlight. Of course, that made Tony the disappointment. Howard liked when Tony was in the spotlight. Howard liked when Tony faked his smile. He said maybe, it would have been better if Ty’s dad got stuck with him, if he got to keep the functional kid. _

 

_ Tony couldn’t disagree. He’d want Ty instead of himself, too. _

 

_ “I don’t think we  _ can _ get married,” he admitted. “We’re too young. You have to be an adult to get married, that’s why you only see adults married.” He did reach over to grab Ty’s hand, though. _

 

_ “Adult is a relative term,” Tiberius argued, though there was no malice in his voice. “If we as a society accept that the number of years you spend breathing on this planet, then we’re completely ignoring the fact that social isolation and luck can make someone younger mature more quickly, and that a young person with a high IQ could potentially be smarter and wiser than an adult with a low IQ.” _

 

_ Tony nodded along as Ty spoke, agreeing wholeheartedly. There were some adults he knew that could hardly tie their own shoelaces. “I get how a kid could be smarter, but how could they be wiser if adults have more time to experience things?” _

 

_ “Because you don’t have to experience things to know not to do them. Just watch what the adults do, and if their lives start sucking, then don’t do the thing they did.” Ty looked up at Tony, his previously neutral expression lightening up into something like a smile. Tony liked when Ty looked at him. Ty didn’t look at him like Howard or any of the adults did. “So, how old do we have to be before we can get married?” _

 

_ “I don’t know. I think 10 years old is good.” _

 

_ “I’m 10 years old.” _

 

_ “But I have to be 10 years old, too. Otherwise, it’s illegal.” _

 

_ “Hm.” Ty squeezed Tony’s hand in his own, nodding. “Okay. I’ll propose to you again when you’re 10.” _  
  



	2. Chapter 2

“What kind of cake do you like?” Steve asked, reaching across the dinner table; it was a gesture intimately and almost habitually recognized that the both of them, and Tony responded in kind by taking ahold of his fiance’s hand with a smile. It always made it a little bit harder to eat, but Steve was ambidextrous, so he could sacrifice his right hand to Tony’s left with hardly a problem. Not that they really wanted to be eating what they were eating anyway. Tony tried to be romantic, so he cooked for Steve. That was his first mistake. His second mistake was  _ what  _ he cooked, which was homemade pasta. He used the wrong kind of flour, too few eggs, and then to remedy his mistake, he used too  _ many _ eggs… It was essentially just a molten mess. But Steve, ever the knight in shining armor (ironically), dropped the Mistake Dough into a pot of boiling water and made something halfway edible out of it. 

 

So they were eating disgusting slop with a garnish, essentially. At least Tony could drown his doughy mush in Alfredo sauce.

 

“My own husband doesn’t know what kind of cake I like? How can I love you? How can I  _ trust _ you?” Tony pulled his hand away from Steve’s, glaring playfully at him over the Error Dish.

 

“I’m not your husband yet. But you’re right,” Steve agreed. “I guess, if we’re not having a wedding, that leaves more money for me to buy the kind of cake  _ I  _ want.” He knew Tony’s antics well, and his husband’s-- fiance’s shenanigans were manageable.

 

He stood up, pressing a kiss to Tony’s lips as he gathered their dishes. Tony barely ate- he was like that sometimes, and as bad as it was when they first got together, Steve was grateful that Tony could manage three square meals most days. Steve let it slide that night. Tony had a big breakfast anyway, and the “pasta” was probably a bit much for Tony’s sophisticated palette. He could scarf down a burger in seconds, but he knew when food was  _ bad.  _ Steve didn’t have such a luxury. He’d eat anything. For the first 20-some years of his life, the tastiest thing he ate was his mother’s chicken noodle soup, and that was only because it deviated from the norm of mashed potatoes, fried potatoes, lumpier mashed potatoes, soupier mashed potatoes that they called “potato soup”, and… Oh, right, uncooked potatoes. That was always a fun one.

 

Tony followed Steve closely as he went to go wash the dishes, just to be near him. They were getting  _ married,  _ it was like a second honeymoon phase. Not that they had much of a honeymoon phase before. They were always sort of close, but they fought as friends, and that didn’t change when they started dating. They were like friends with benefits, only the benefits including saying ‘I love you’ and snuggling up together on the couch during movie night. And fucking, obviously, but Tony could do that with  _ anyone _ . It wasn’t a deciding factor in whether or not something was a relationship.

 

“So…” He slumped against Steve’s side, his gaze fixed on Steve’s hands scrubbing each dish clean. It didn’t take so long, since most of the food was mush, and Tony was only mildly disappointed. He liked watching Steve clean dishes. It felt like domestic bliss, something he knew he and Steve could never have. Domestic moments? Yes. But they weren’t made for white picket fences and date nights, they weren’t made for relaxing weekends and lovey dovey Valentine’s Days. They tried, they tried to be the couple they knew they could have been if all the hero stuff was out of the way, but it was hopeless. They were something different. That wasn’t a bad thing.

 

They would never have that kind of innocence that came with being average. Tony would never check Steve after a mission to make sure he was Steve and not someone or something  _ else  _ if they were average. Steve would never wake up in the middle of the night breathing hard enough to wake Tony up, too, and Steve would never have to hold onto Tony’s wrist until he felt a pulse, he’d never have to kiss Tony until Tony was breathless to make sure there was still a breath at all.

 

But if they were average, they wouldn’t have met. If they were average, then Steve wouldn’t have been put on ice and Tony would have still been a weapons manufacturer. If they were average, they wouldn’t be able to be average together.

 

“The cake  _ you _ want that we’re deciding to spend the wedding budget on, it’s… a lifetime supply of coffee cake, right?” Tony asked, turning his head to the side to rest it on Steve’s shoulder.

 

“Of course,” Steve responded without hesitation. He stepped away from Tony to put the dishes in the drying rack and to towel the moisture off of his hands, a small, content smile on his face. He never really liked coffee cake. At least, not until Tony kept bringing it home. He liked the flavor because he liked the memories. Tony, dunking cake flavored with coffee beans into a beverage flavored with coffee beans, sitting on the couch as if he wasn’t going to be shaking by the time the night was over because ‘it’s just not symmetrical, Steve, I need to eat half of this fucking cake.’

 

Steve figured out early on that cutting two equally sized slices from opposite ends of the cake was enough to keep Tony quiet about symmetry, even though he suspected that wasn’t the reason Tony ate so much of it. His suspicions were confirmed when he opened the fridge to find a single round coffee cake… With one extra slice taken off of the left side. He didn’t say anything about it, but it was mentioned in his vows. What could he say? He thought it would be funny.

 

Tony seemed content with Steve’s answer- he would have gone with any flavor Steve suggested, if he was being honest with himself, but Steve would have chosen coffee cake anyway. He knew something as small as remembering a cake flavor would have made Tony’s heart swell with joy.

 

He turned back to Tony to wrap his arms around his fiance, kissing his forehead softly. Tony’s nose crinkled for a moment, but he relaxed into the hold, tucking his head under Steve’s chin. Domestic bliss. Or, well… As close as they would get.

 

* * *

 

 

  
_Tiberius was good at remembering things. He remembered Tony’s favorite flower, his favorite plant that wasn’t a flower, his favorite fungus that_ looked _like a flower, his favorite dinosaur, his favorite dog, his favorite cat, his favorite… everything. Everything about Tony mattered to him. Tony was all he had, and he knew he was all Tony had. Aside from Maria, of course, and Jarvis. But he was the only one Tony had his age, the only one Howard liked him spending a lot of time with. Maria had work to do, and Howard thought that her spending too much time with Tony made him spoiled. And Jarvis? Well, Jarvis did whatever he could for Tony, but at the end of the day, he was Howard’s employee. Lifelong_ _friend, sure, but all that went away when Howard’s newfound interest in ice replaced it._

__

_ Ty never knew a Howard that wasn’t angry and rude, the same way his own father was. But Howard and Ty’s father encouraged his love for his future company. His father would tell him he’d make a fine entrepreneur one day, and Howard told Tony over and over again that he should be more like Ty, he should be as passionate as Ty. _

__

_ Ty didn’t get it. Tony was passionate, just not about Stark Industries. He could build anything anyone asked him to, but he spent his time on tiny robots that drew and walked and talked. He liked building things, not tearing them down. Ty had a feeling Tony didn’t even know it, Tony didn’t know what he liked, he just knew he wasn’t liking what he was supposed to like. _

__

_ And it sucked. _

__

_ He liked Tony. He loved Tony. He thought, at the time, when he was 12 and Tony was 10, that he was  _ in  _ love with Tony. They were kids, though, and the love would come later. Still, they cared about each other, so deeply that tearing them apart would have been devastating for the both of them. It was true that Tiberius had a temper, he was easily upset when he wasn’t the best and happy when he was, but… It was normal kid behavior. Just a normal kid with a normal kid temper. And when Tony said it, when he said “Ty, you’re doing it again,” Tiberius stopped. Just like that. He left to go calm himself down, and he came back when he knew he could talk. _

__

_ He and Tony were more adult than the adults in their lives. _

__

_ They were good at talking to each other, at communication. Maybe it was just childlike innocence making everything seem forgivable. Ty didn’t know. All he knew- all he was thinking about that whole day, Tony’s 10th birthday, was proposing. He was going to marry Tony Stark. _

__

_ He brought a ring he made himself, something out of wire twisted into a circle. It was copper, and the edges were sanded down so Tony would get cut, and… and… It wasn’t perfect. There were no diamonds, it wasn’t expensive, it wasn’t even made of something sturdy, but it would do. Right? It would do. _

__

_ When Tony entered the Stark Mansion’s ballroom, he saw Tony dressed in a nice suit and tie, holding a glass of sparkling cider (it was champagne, Tiberius knew, because Howard said something about it ‘making Tony a man’ when Tony was eight and Tony never forgot it) as he mingled with an older man near the bar. He was probably doing laps around the room, talking to people for no more than a minute so he could politely thank them for their birthday wishes and move on to the next person he didn’t care about. When his eyes landed on Tiberius, he visibly relaxed, the smile on his face becoming more genuine as Ty approached. _

__

_ “Hey,” Ty greeted, gently closing his hand around Tony’s wrist to pull him to the edge of the room. Tony followed willingly, but his gaze kept falling to Ty’s clenched hand. At that point in their relationship, his only thought when he saw a fist at Ty’s side was that Ty must have been holding something. He made a small, inquisitive noise, to which Ty responded by opening his hand to reveal the ring in his palm. _

__

_ Tony had to suppress a gasp, picking it up and admiring it. He slipped it on with no hesitation, leaning forward to kiss Ty’s cheek. When he moved away from Ty, however, he met eyes with… Howard, over Ty’s shoulder. Not good. Howard- Howard wanted him to marry someone else, Howard had someone in mind, Howard had someone who wasn’t the son of a competing business in mind, someone who wasn’t a man to begin with. A boy. Whatever. _

__

_ He glanced nervously back at Ty before leaving him to approach Howard, and Ty watched him disappear as Howard took him out of the room. Ty followed as quietly as he could, and it felt like too long searching the hallways until he finally heard yelling coming from behind a wooden door. He stood beside it, slowly pressing his ear to its surface so he could hear better. Howard’s voice. Tony crying. _

__

_ “--bad enough you’re a fairy--” _

_ “--out of anyone--” _

_ “--should be fucking ashamed of yourself--” _

_ “--piece of shit son I’m stuck with--” _

_ “--and you should know better!” _

__

_ Ty only caught bits and pieces, but it was enough. He pushed the door open and placed himself in between Tony and Howard, anger in his eyes. It was true he had a temper. It was true that it was the same for everyone. And it was true he was good enough at lying to twist the anger into an expression of something more sorrowful. “It wasn’t his fault. It wasn’t- It was mine, sir, I’m sorry.” He thought, because of how highly Howard praised him, he would be forgiven. He was wrong. _

__

_ There was the sound of a hit, dull and quick, and Ty was knocked back while Howard stormed out of the room. Tony was still sniffling, but his brain seemed to override the fear he felt for himself to kneel down beside Tiberius. He pulled Ty’s hand off of his cheek (Ty didn’t know when he lifted it, but he had a feeling it was when the pain was so suddenly intense that his body wanted nothing more than to protect it so it wouldn’t feel that same pain again) and gently rested a finger over it. It was hot to the touch, red and barely swollen, but Tony knew it would bruise. It happened often enough that he and Ty both had concealer of their own, though Howard had never… lashed out at Ty like that, before. Nor had Ty’s father ever hit Tony. _

__

_ “I’m sorry,” Tony said softly, scooting over a little bit so he could collapse on his back beside Ty. It was a little bit silly, them laying on the floor like they were, but they’d done it a few times when they were watching the stars. _

__

_ “It’s not your fault,” Ty replied, reaching for Tony’s hand and smiling a little at the feeling of the ring. “I’m never going to blame you for something like this.” _

__   
  


_ “I know.”  _


	3. Chapter 3

Their touches tended to be innocent. Even flirtatious touches, inappropriate touches, they were all done with love. They would touch as friends- a clap on the back or a bump of the shoulders was standard. They rarely did more than that, but they were always… physical with each other. There were a few nights when they’d both be awake, unable to sleep, and they spoke then. They… They hugged then, sometimes, just to have _someone_. When they started dating, everything changed. They touched almost constantly. It was like, for years, they’d been holding back everything they wanted until suddenly, they were allowed to have it.

 

It was Thursday, which was the team-designated movie night, and Tony was curled up against Steve’s side like always. Steve’s arm was around Tony’s waist, his fingers just barely ghosting along the skin of Tony’s waist under his shirt. It was an absent minded movement, as plenty of things were between them at that point, but the team was watching more closely then. Everyone was casting glances at the newly engaged couple, at the simple band on Tony’s ring finger, at the hint of a smile on Steve’s face every time Tony shifted to make himself more comfortable.

 

Steve ducked his head a little bit to whisper to Tony,  though his eyes were still glued to the screen. They were playing something none of them had seen yet, which was always a treat. Usually, it was Steve and Thor getting caught up on things they hadn’t seen yet, but when they watched something new for all of them, they were quieter and paying more attention. It was some kind of horror/thriller film, and Tony’s guard was down as he listened to Steve’s quiet questions. He was about to answer one when there was a jump scare (a cheap trick, but an effective one). It caused him to jerk, the side of his head colliding with Steve’s.

 

Tony yelped, Steve jumped back in surprise, and there was a period before quiet laughter began to flow through the room. Clint paused the movie while Steve got up to get an ice pack, and Tony leveled a glare at the rest of the room through his playful grimace.

 

Steve came back and held the ice pack to Tony’s head, and when  Tony raised a hand to hold it himself, Steve gently pushed it away. Tony looked back at Steve for a moment thoughtfully before leaning against the hand holding the pack. They continued watching the movie, and Steve didn’t ask any more questions.

 

By the time the movie was over, everyone was a little bit on edge in an irrational way. The normal horror movie feeling. Clint and Nat left to play Uno on Nat’s floor, Bruce went to his floor, and Thor… They weren’t quite sure what Thor was doing. He wasn’t around the tower, but no one seemed to mind. He could hold his own against most opponents. Steve and Tony headed back up to the penthouse, putting the ice pack away on their way up.

 

Tony stopped by their dresser as Steve headed to the bathroom, but he paused when he saw Tony raise his hand to his hair. His fingers smoothed over greying strands, and there was- there was this look on his face, like he wasn’t _upset_ but there was something agitating him. Steve let out a soft, adoring sigh, and approached Tony from behind, making eye contact with him in the mirror before wrapping his arms around Tony’s waist. Tony dropped his hands to rest on top of Steve’s, and he let his eyes close as they simply relaxed.

 

Tony’s hair was messy, he had a smudge of popcorn butter at the corner of his lip, and his clothes were pajamas he’d worn the night before. It seemed like every time Steve saw Tony, he only got more beautiful. Steve pressed a kiss to Tony’s temple, his cheek, his neck. When Tony gave an answering tilt of his head to the other side a little, the feel of the moment sort of… altered.

 

It was the 2AM gas station feeling, the one where everything was quiet and dark and it felt like they were the only two people in the world, where the lights were there for no other purpose than for them to see each other.

 

Steve pulled away from Tony enough to turn him around, their lips connecting in the same way they did every time they got this close. It worked. It wasn’t the feeling of butterflies in their stomachs or shifting and posing a little to make themselves look more attractive, it was home, it was calm, it was kicking your shoes off and sitting down after too long standing up. Being together for them wasn’t a rare, treasured thing. It was baseline. When they came back to each other, it was respite.

 

Steve’s hands trailed down Tony’s sides, resting at his hips for a moment before Tony wrapped his arms around Steve’s neck to pull himself up. Then, Steve’s hands moved to Tony’s thighs to support him, and they only pulled away from each other for Steve to ask, “Bed?” and for Tony to nod in response.

 

They kissed on the edge of the bed until Tony was breathless. Steve slipped his hands under Tony’s shirt to pull it off, lowering his head to kiss around the reactor. Tony carded his fingers through Steve’s hair as he accepted the affection. Steve was always so sweet (except for the times when he wasn’t, but those sessions of theirs were always agreed upon beforehand) and loving to him, and when the man looked up from Tony’s chest to meet his gaze, it was--

 

Steve wasn’t making eye contact. Huh.

 

His focus was glued to Tony’s hair, messy and greying and _beautiful_ , and he pressed a chaste kiss to Tony’s lips before saying, quietly, “You have nothing to be ashamed of.”

 

Tony smiled a little sadly and shook his head, silently hinting that he knew what Steve was trying to do, and he didn’t want it. He didn’t want to talk about that, not then. Steve sighed, kissed Tony’s temple, and pulled him a little closer, his chin resting on Tony’s shoulder.

 

The mood wasn’t exactly _ruined,_ but Tony thought he needed a few minutes at least to get the thought out of his mind. He had nothing to be ashamed of, nothing except most things. He couldn’t have sex with Steve when he was so focused on doubting himself like that. It would feel too selfish, like he was trying to prove to himself he was worth it instead of just taking the time to be with the man he loved.

 

“Steve, darling, beloved, love of my life, you know how much I admire your… body,” Tony started, causing Steve to lift his head with a quirked brow. “But I was thinking about what Clint said this morning about the food trucks in town, and-”

 

“And you want to get some tacos before we fuck?” Steve asked.

 

“Exactly.”

 

“Aren’t you supposed to be trying a keto diet?”

 

“I’m not nearly as strong as you think I am, Steve.”

 

“You don’t have to be.” Steve gave Tony a smile, who returned it without hesitation.

 

Steve stood up and handed Tony his shirt, watching with an amused look in his eyes as Tony pulled it back on. When they reached the elevator, Steve pressed Tony against the back wall of it and kissed him hard, not only to hint at what was to come, but also just to feel Tony against him. He didn’t know how he got so lucky. It didn’t really matter, anyway. Tony would love him whether he hated himself or not.

 

 

* * *

  
  


_Tony didn’t know anything was wrong that day. He hadn’t been paying attention, which was his first mistake. At the morning fundraiser Howard dragged him along to, people kept clapping him on the back, smiling at him, “congratulating” him for something. He hated it, he hated being touched by strangers. He thought Tiberius would be there- he always was- but he wasn’t._

 

_It was off putting in a way Tony couldn’t describe. Ty had missed a few galas since they met, so it shouldn’t have been so bad. But it was. God, it was, Tony didn’t know what the fuck he was going on. It had been two years since Ty “proposed” and they were officially a “couple”, or as much of a couple as they could have been at their ages. They spent almost every day together, and when Tony couldn’t see Ty, it was like a wasted day. Ty being absent then just irked him._

 

_When Howard and Tony got home, Ty’s car (his dad’s, actually, but when it was out front, Ty was always there) was parked in front of the mansion. Howard seemed off then, too. He gripped the steering wheel and slammed on the brakes to park, and Tony caught what he was doing just in time to brace himself. His heart was beating fast as Howard got out of the car, and he followed close behind._

 

_“Stark,” Ty’s father greeted, voice laced with venom. He got out of his car and approached Howard, and- it happened too fast, but Tony remembered enough- his fist was connecting with Howard’s face and the two were yelling and Tony couldn’t breathe. He left Howard and Ty’s father alone, trying to go back to the mansion, trying to escape, but then Ty’s father grabbed him by the collar and shook him hard, too hard. He heard Ty’s voice from somewhere- the direction of the car, he thought- but he was too busy focusing on Ty’s father to hear what he said._

 

_That was, until Ty was being screamed at._

 

_Ty’s father spoke about Tony in a way he’d never heard before. He was shaken again, and then slapped, and though Howard looked like he wanted to do something every time Tony glanced at him, he didn’t. He didn’t move from his spot on the sidelines. But Ty was screaming right back at his father, telling him to let go of Tony, to drop it, that it wasn’t Tony’s fault._

 

_“I can’t believe you ever gave a shit about this pisspoor excuse for a boy,” Ty’s father said, his words directed at his son while his eyes were glued to Tony’s face. “You know how fucking pathetic that is? How pathetic you are for not seeing it? He’s a Stark, and like every other Stark out there, he’s nothing but the garbage he came from.”_

 

_“He’s not his father!” Ty argued, but dear old dad wasn’t having it._

 

_“I don’t want to hear it! If you hadn’t spent all your time parading your fag boyfriend around, maybe they wouldn’t have given enough of a shit about us to do this, maybe you’d still have a fucking home to live in. Did you ever think about that? The consequences of your fucking actions? You’re unfit to wear the clothes on your back, let alone run a goddamned business.”_

 

_Another hit was delivered to Tony’s cheek, but he wasn’t crying. He was staring in shock at Tiberius, unsure what to make of everything happening. Ty stared back at him with nearly dead eyes. Tony was released, his shaky legs causing his knees to hit the ground hard. Ty’s father left, and Howard seemed just as uncomfortable as Tony and Ty did. He made eye contact with Tony and left for the mansion._

 

_Ty had it under control. At least, Ty was supposed to have it under control. As annoying as the little brat could be, he always did keep Tony calm and distracted. But then, it seemed to be the exact opposite. Not that Howard knew. He was already in the mansion by the time Tiberius had run his hands over Tony’s face, his shoulders, everywhere he could reach. He checked for bruising and cuts, and all he saw was the lightly swelling red spot on Tony’s cheek where he was hit. Ty sat down beside Tony on the ground and, to Tony’s horror, began to cry. Not quiet gasps for breath, but rough, wailing sobs, and they sounded like a throat being split in half, a heart being broken._

 

_“Ty?” Tony asked softly, reaching for Tiberius’ hand. Ty pulled it away the second it was touched, jerking violently away from Tony._

 

_“Leave me alone.”_

 

_“If you wanted me to leave you alone, you wouldn’t have sat down.”_

 

_“Leave--”_

 

_“You can get up. I’m not leaving.” Tony’s voice was thick with steely determination, but he felt more uncertain than ever. Ty was like a rock, strong and still, unchanging. In that moment, though, he couldn’t be more unstable. Not in Tony’s head, at least. Tony didn’t know just how bad it could get. All he knew was that Ty needed him._

 

_“I’m not nearly as strong as you think I am, Tony,” Ty finally admitted, voice broken. Tony frowned, pulled off his jacket, and set it on the ground beside him. He set his hand on Ty’s shoulder and urged him to lay down, which he did without hesitation. His head was rested in Tony’s lap, and Tony carded his fingers through Ty’s hair like he always did._

 

_“You don’t have to be,” Tony said softly in response. “You don’t have to be the strong one all the time. I didn’t know you… felt like this. If I did, Ty, I would have--”_

 

_Ty interrupted with the question of, “Can we just go to bed?” and Tony shut up. He knew how hard it must have been for Ty, just letting everything out like that. He’d been hurt many, many times, but then- Then Tony got hurt, and it was like everything came crashing down. Tony would have felt flattered if he didn’t already feel so guilty._

 

_They went to Tony’s room that night, and Howard didn’t say anything about it. He had his own things to deal with, his own bruises to ice. He didn’t have time to worry about what his son was doing then._

  


 

 

 

_In the morning, Ty was gone and Tony was alone._

 

_There was an article in the paper about Viastone going out of business. Something about… Stark tech, about Howard, and… Tony couldn’t read too much of it. He could only scan the paper as he passed the breakfast table before Howard put it back down. No wonder Ty’s father was so angry._

 

_“Dad?” Tony asked, taking a seat at the table._

 

_Howard didn’t like him. Howard tolerated him. Even so, he had a small bit of patience, asking “Yes?” before taking a sip of his coffee._

 

_“Ty’s staying with us, right?”_

 

_That made Howard pause. “He has no place--” A deep breath. “No. No, Tony, he’s not a good influence for you.”_

 

_That was confusing, and more than a little agitating. Howard was saying he wasn’t a good influence, after how long of telling Tony he should be more like Ty? How long? “You’ve liked him more than me since you met him.”_

 

_“Tony, he’s not staying with us.”_

 

_“But-”_

 

 _And then Howard stood up. In one moment, he was on his feet and the coffee mug had been slammed on the table. “I said_ no _.”_

 

 

 

 

 

_Tony saw Ty a few months after that. Howard had dragged Tony along to an art exhibit, and Tony quickly lost interest. He left Howard to explore, and lo and behold, there he was. Tiberius Stone, in the flesh, dressed… quite well, for the circumstances._

 

_Tony was ecstatic. It had been so long, too long, and there Ty was, he was going to get to talk to Ty again, they’d be able to spend time together during the exhibit and Ty would make it fun again, Ty would make things worth seeing again. But when Tony approached Ty to say hello, there was a different air around them, a level of animosity that wasn’t there before._

 

_“What do you want?” Ty almost snapped, but he was calm about it. He was calm about most things. Everything, actually, until he broke down in Tony’s lap. The worst part about it was that Tony didn’t see him again after that. Whatever happened in the last few months, it clearly affected Ty in some way. It made Ty see Tony in a different light, maybe. Tony couldn’t be sure._

 

_What he didn’t know was how heartbroken Ty was at the sight of Tony. Ty had spent every waking second of his life since leaving Tony the morning after his breakdown trying to prove to his father that he could run the business, that he could be what he needed to be. Without the business, he was nothing. It was his purpose, his only goal. Howard Stark drove it into the ground, but the Stones didn’t stay down. They weren’t nearly as successful as the Starks, but they would be. One day, they would be. And when the Starks went bankrupt, they wouldn’t find any home other than cardboard boxes on the sides of the street._

 

_That was what Ty’s father said. Ty agreed. There was no option other than to agree._

 

_He saw Tony’s face when he slept. He imagined what it would look like dirtied, what Tony would look like 20 pounds lighter, what Tony would eat and drink and where Tony would sleep. Caring hurt. He had to stop caring._

 

_He was well on his way to indifference. And then Tony himself had to show up, pretending like everything was okay. It should have been. It would have been, had Ty not left that morning. He did, though, and he couldn’t take it back._

 

_After a few moments of silence (it was painful, having to watch Tony’s expression morph from glee to sorrow in seconds flat), Tony asked, “Did I do something wrong?”_

 

_“I don’t know, Tony, did you drive us out of our home?” Ty asked, and the exhaustion in his tone was hidden by layers of malice and hostility._

 

_“You said-” Tony started, and he seemed unsure of himself. “You said I wasn’t my father.”_

 

_Ty sounded almost sympathetic when he spoke again, his brows furrowed a little in what looked like pity. “Oh, Tony. We’re all our fathers.”_

 

_That hurt. Tony would admit, that hurt like hell. He’d rather remember Ty driving a stake through his chest than saying something so blatantly meant to hurt (it wasn’t, but he didn’t know that. He didn’t know Ty was justifying the pain he himself felt, he couldn’t know that)._

 

_It was like losing everything. Tony had his mother, he had Jarvis, but… Tiberius was his world. He was the good and the loving, he was protection and security and kindness, he was everything Tony needed and then some. That Ty, the Ty that Tony knew so well, he wasn’t gone. He couldn’t be gone. Everyone went through things, and Ty… Ty was stressed. Tony understood._

 

_So he shook off the comment and asked hopefully, “Do you want to grab dinner sometime?” They were young, far too young to drive or go anywhere to eat alone, but they had a lot of meeting places. Dinner could mean anything with them._

_Tiberius seemed contemplative for a moment. He loved Tony, that much was undeniable. But if Tony still loved him in any capacity, if Tony still cared about him, there would always be something to go back to, something hindering his progress. Tony was too forgiving. If Ty went to dinner, if Ty showed Tony that their lifestyles were no longer compatible, there would be nothing to go home to. Tony wouldn’t want him anymore, and it would be for the best._

_Burning bridges was only detrimental when they deserved to stay standing._

_“Fine,” Ty agreed._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's midnight so this probably fucking sucks but oh well!!  
> ALSO! tags updated bc this is going to get Heavy As Fuck
> 
> comments give me life tbh

**Author's Note:**

> i do this thing where i write a bunch and then don't read it back so if at any point this no longer makes sense and/or has a BUNCH of errors then whoops!!!


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